I’ve told the origin story of The Sciku Project often enough that I’m not going to repeat myself here, except to say that the idea sprung from a particularly tedious commute one day and by the time I’d arrived home I had the whole thing roughly mapped out in my head.
Of course, I didn’t believe I was the first to come up with the idea of science haiku (‘sciku’) and lo and behold when I got home and started searching online one of the first things I stumbled across was a book of sciku written by over 150 students aged between 11 and 18 at The Camden School for Girls.
Published with the aim of raising funds to refurbish the school’s science laboratories, Sciku: The Wonder of Science in Haikugoes far beyond a mere school fundraising project.
It is, rather like its subject matter, pretty wonderous.
Friction
I walked down the street And slipped on a banana Reduced resistance
By Poppy Boswell
There are over 400 poems within its pages, covering the full breadth of scientific disciplines and interests. The poems are clever, playful, angry, funny, curious, thought-provoking, energetic and factual. There are poems that have genuinely made me laugh and there are poems that have made me feel the guilt of the old leaving the world in a worse state than when they inherited it. There’s a poem that entrances me on almost every one of the 150 pages.
Here’s an illustration of what I mean. To prepare for this review I re-read the book and folded page corners over every time I read a poem that I felt was especially worth highlighting. There are now more folded pages than unfolded. I could slot coins in the upper and lower corners of my copy and you’d never notice from it’s profile.
There’s just so much life in this book. Even the poems where you can feel the age of the writer coming through fizz with the energy of youth.
Last
Last fossil fuel burned, Last greenhouse gas relinquished, The last breath we take.
By Edom Yecalo-Tecle
I will say that a collection of more than 400 poems is a lot. They’re crammed on the pages; its not a book I find comfortable to read page after page of in a single sitting. Whilst I don’t believe haiku collections need to be one poem per page, it’s overwhelming in places with little space to breathe. I have a feeling that the editors, Simon Flynn, Karen Scott and twelve 13-14 year olds, wanted as many authors involved as possible, but the presentation sometimes makes individual poems feel rushed.
And not every sciku sticks a clean landing. None of them are awful but some are exactly what you might stereotypically expect a teenager or pre-teen to write. (All are far better than I could have written at that age, and most are better than I can write now.)
The majority are fantastic. Some are breath-taking.
I’ve been running The Sciku Project for almost 7 years now. As with any endeavour, there are peaks and troughs. It’s always an honour to be able to showcase the work of incredibly talented people and the majority of the time it’s a pleasure, but there are times when the publishing process itself feels more like a chore. In those rare moments when my enthusiasm wanes I reach for Sciku and am inspired by the passion and creativity of these incredible girls.
Bowel movement
The life processes, Most amusing – excretion. Through the rectum … plop1.
By Eden Maddix Odeniyi
This book was published 10 years ago in 2014. Everyone one of the authors will have finished school and gone on to other things. I wonder how many chose to go to university to study science. I wonder how many of them now work in science. I wonder how many carry with them a love of science and poetry as a result of this school project.
I hope writing these poems inspired the girls as much as reading them has inspired me.
1. This poem By Eden Maddix Odeniyi reminded me of Basho’s famous ‘Old Pond’ with its final line ‘mizu no oto’ which literally translates as ‘water sound’. Many English translations of Basho’s poem have written it as ‘the sound of water’ or even ‘splash’ but, for me, the sound of a frog jumping into a pond is more of a plopping sound than a splash.
With the release of his book Science Communication Through Poetry, Dr. Sam Illingworth, Associate Professor in Academic Practice at Edinburgh Napier University, presents a guide to all things science poetry. Read on for The Sciku Project’s review!
Reflections and wishes
I didn’t really know what I was doing when I started The Sciku Project. For most of my career I’d been the stereotypical scientist, focussing on the intricacies of my subject at the expense of other things. (I’ve mentioned before my frustration at a curtailed English literature and language education.) I was hooked on one form of poetry and I was passionate about using it to communicate science. But I was a bit clueless about how.
So I researched and read up and studied and learnt and designed and built and wrote and created until eventually, a little over 5 years ago, The Sciku Project was launched into the world.
At that point the real education began. Since then I’ve:
Read, written, edited, published and promoted hundreds of sciku.
Researched the advantages of using poetry for science communication (instead of only instinctively believing that it is beneficial).
Learnt how to effectively use social media and how to promote the site (even if I’m still a bit rubbish!).
Developed workshops and discovered approaches that get people excited and participating (as well as things that don’t!).
Explored, practiced and taught haiku structure and form beyond the three core traditions (17 syllables, cutting word and seasonal reference).
Discovered how to read and enjoy other forms of poetry, and seen first-hand how poetry of all forms can be effective at communicating science.
And that’s just the tip of the educational iceberg! I’ve come a long way and am proud of what I’ve learnt and achieved (whilst being the first to admit I could and should do and learn more).
I wonder how much further along would I be if I’d had Sam Illingworth’s latest book Science Communication Through Poetry to read back when The Sciku Project was nothing but an idea in my head?
Science Communication Through Poetry
Three things you should know before I go any further: (i) A copy of Science Communication Through Poetry was kindly provided by the publisher Springer Nature; (ii) I’ve worked with Sam a few times over the years, as a reviewer for Consilience (the science poetry journal that he founded) and on a workshop and poetry competition I organised in 2021; and (iii) The Sciku Project is referenced in the book itself, as is my 2017 Science article about the site’s inception.
With those disclaimers in mind, here’s what I think of Sam’s latest book:
Science Communication Through Poetry is the book I wish I’d had before I started The Sciku Project.
I’m not exaggerating. In Science Communication Through Poetry Sam lays out all of those things I’ve learned in my years of running The Sciku Project, and so much more to boot.
A bit of Fry and Learning
Science Communication Through Poetry is split into three broad sections. The first third of the book covers the what, why, where and how of science poetry: the benefits of writing science poetry, how to find and read poetry, how to write your own science poetry and how to share your poetry. (If I’d has this 5 years ago things would have been a lot easier!)
Dr. Sam Illingworth, Associate Professor in Academic Practice at Edinburgh Napier University, UK (source).
Poetry can be intimidating for the beginner. I’ve recently read Stephen Fry’s The Ode Less Travelled. It’s undeniably excellent and beautifully written, but it’s also heavy going if you aren’t already invested in understanding the underlying structures of a great many forms of poetry.
Wisely Sam avoids going into too much detail. Meters, feet and iambs are all very briefly introduced in the context of a few example forms of poetry without scaring the newcomer away. For someone just starting out on their poetry journey it’s perfect, enough to engage and interest without overwhelming. The Ode Less Travelled is suggested as further reading and I wish I’d read Science Communication Through Poetry first before diving headfirst in Fry’s poetry bible.
“Poetry is truth dwelling in beauty”
Robert Gilfillan’s statement about poetry and truth strikes at the heart of one of the fundamental roles of poetry: to convey knowledge and truth. Plato said something similar (“Poetry is nearer to vital truth than history”), as did the French priest and poet Joseph Roux (“Poetry is truth in its Sunday clothes”).
But if poetry can illuminate truths, then can we use poetry to ask questions of scientific discourse and of science itself?
It’s this question that the middle portion of the book seeks to answer. The chapters cover two research methods using science poetry: Poetic Content Analysis (“analysing poetry written about a specific topic or theme”) and Poetic Transcription (“creating poetry from other qualitative data” such as interviews or survey responses).
The front cover of Issue 1 of Consilience, the science poetry and science art journal that Sam Illingworth founded in 2020 (source).
This was completely new for me. I’ve never used poetry as more than just a communication tool (and for my own pleasure!) but Sam shows why and how you can use poetry as a research method to “interrogate both science and scientific discourse”. I found it absolutely fascinating. Sam walks the reader through the steps, providing a worked through example of each research method.
After reading these chapters I want to try the research methods out myself and feel like, with the book alongside me at each stage of the way, I could actually do so. It’s an impressive achievement given I’ve only ever used quantitative statistics. (I’m a Generalized Linear Model fanboy, yet here I am excited by the prospect of trying qualitative analysis!)
It’s an example of the importance and power of taking an interdisciplinary approach, the core argument that lies behind everything the book advocates.
Don’t forget the biscuits!
The final third of the book is about how poetry can be used as a way of creating dialogue between scientists and non-scientists, through collaboration and workshops. There’s lots of very practical advice and suggestions, as well as worked through examples which provide a fantastic framework for those getting started.
I really admire Sam’s six-point manifesto for collaboration:
Begin at the start.
Grant agency.
Reward involvement
Be humble
Encourage evolution.
Listen.
The manifesto nicely complements Sam’s advice on not leaving participants or facilitators of workshops in a HUFF: be Humble, be Unaesthetic, be Flexible, be Fair. These stood out for me as great examples of the ethos that runs through the book. It’s clear Sam is passionate about his subject and that he cares deeply about sharing his enthusiasm with others, engaging and enabling them to experience that joy.
I also like how practical some of the advice is. This sentence on p145 genuinely made me chuckle:
“I also had to remember to bring the notebooks and biscuits to each session, both of which were critical for effective delivery of the workshops.”
We’re all human and sometimes the smallest things, such as bringing along biscuits to a workshop, can make all the difference in how an audience engages and participates. The advice Sam gives, from the big picture to the minor details, speak of his depth of experience and practical knowledge of engaging scientists and non-scientists with science and poetry.
This experience shines through in the many examples of fabulous things Sam’s done with science poetry, but I never felt that it comes across as bragging. Every stated achievement is balanced by an admittance of some other failure or area where something could have been improved. It comes back to the constant of his manifesto and HUFF: be humble.
Conclusions
Communicating science through the medium of poetry is still a relatively new practice. Sam Illingworth shows just how impactful it can be, leading the charge for this interdisciplinary approach. I believe Science Communication Through Poetry is a fantastic resource for both the novice and experienced science poet and communicator.
It’s accessible, engaging and constantly interesting, encouraging the reader to have a go themselves. Dotted throughout the book are exercises you can try out for yourself. I found the ones I tried thoroughly enjoyable. They pushed me to try forms of poetry beyond my normal comfort zone and to seriously consider ways in which I can take everything I’ve been doing with The Sciku Project to the next level.
I wish I’d had Science Communication Through Poetry to refer to over the last 5 years, I’d have returned to it again and again for advice and inspiration.
I’m very glad to have it for the next 5 years and beyond.
a fish owl on an icy river bank grabs more than fish
by Jon Hare.
Jonathan Slaght’s book “Owls of the Eastern Ice” is part natural history and part adventure story. The natural history focuses on Blakiston’s fish owl, the largest living species of owl. The adventure focuses on Dr. Slaght’s research on the Blakiston’s fish owl in the Primorye territory of Russia – a rugged region in the Far East bordering the Sea of Japan, North Korea, and China. The region is home to Amur tigers, Asiatic bears, masu salmon, and Blakiston’s fish owls. The region is also home to villages, logging companies, and loners – all living off of the land.
Dr. Slaght’s task is to understand the owl and then develop a conservation plan that the logging companies and local communities can support. This is a well written narrative that is as much a story of the human condition as it is a description of the work necessary to better understand and conserve the fish owl.
Dr. Jon Hare is a scientist who works in Woods Hole, Massachusetts. His research background is fisheries oceanography and climate change impacts on marine fisheries. Check out Jon’s previous sciku ‘Varves’, ‘Cobwebs to Foodwebs’, ‘Signs of Spring’ and ‘Glacier Mice‘.
Two thousand and seventeen was an auspicious year for scientific haiku. Chromatin Haiku began the year tweeting DNA and histone haiku in earnest (having posted the first tentative tweets in the last days of 2016). The Sciku Project started in May, collecting examples of science haiku (sciku) from across the research spectrum. On the 4th August 2017 the poet and writer Mary Soon Lee published her collection of poems Elemental Haiku in the journal Science; 119 haiku, one for each element of the periodic table.
Now, in 2019, Elemental Haiku: Poems to Honor the Periodic Table Three Lines at a Time by Mary Soon Lee is being published as a book by Ten Speed Press (you can purchase it here). The new version includes a couple of alternative haiku, explanations for each haiku by Mary herself and illustrations by Iris Gottlieb.
Getting Physical
There’s something about the physical. Sure, if you can access the Science webpage where the vast majority of the poems were first published then you’ve got much of what the book Elemental Haiku provides – the poems themselves. But as well designed as that webpage is (and it’s an excellent digital rendition) the book format means you engage with the poems more. You’re less likely to flit between poems rapidly, more likely to consider each poem individually. You’ll turn pages at your own pace rather than just twitching a mouse to have the next poem appear.
Then there are the explanations, which provide snippets of background to each poem and encourage you to go back, re-read and re-evaluate. The explanations are brief, the conciseness signposting key information in each poem, providing a taster of the research that informs each haiku. Occasionally I wanted more than a taster but the poems themselves are the stars of the show and lengthy explanations would likely diminish them.
Judging the suitable amount of information to present
alongside the poems is something I’ve also encountered whilst running The Sciku
Project, and I think Mary’s approach largely works in the collection’s favour. On
a screen you can scroll, much of the additional information hidden, but on the
page large blocks of text would be too imposing. The brevity is a success and for
those instances where I’ve wanted more information the selected bibliography
provides plenty of sources for further reading.
The whole book is designed to support the poems without over-whelming them. Iris Gottlieb’s illustrations are elegantly simple, cropping up every 2-3 poems and expanding the context with clean lines and a soft sense of humour. When present they’re a third channel of information, each chemical element explored through the mediums of poetry, art and fact. Triangulating between the three is a remarkably satisfying process, further helping the reader to explore the haiku and the elements themselves.
Lisa Bieser, the book’s designer, has created a minimalist design, the pages alternating between white and grey, quietly dividing the elements without you realising it. Space allows the work to breathe and some pages are little more than three brief lines of poetry and two lines of explanation. I can relate. When building the website for The Sciku Project I purposefully kept the design simple and discrete to help the poems stand out – it’s not just a lack of web-building skills! Haiku as works of art can be delicate and the design of Elemental Haiku helps to ensure that they aren’t lost amongst the additions.
Some Context
It feels strange to have been sent a preview copy of a
poetry collection. I stopped studying English literature at the age of 14 and
English language at 16, prevented by a combination of timetable clashes, an
education system that encourages early specialisation and a lack of smarts*. Now
that I look back, 20 years later, it seems an absurd system.
I don’t feel qualified or intelligent enough to comment on
Mary Soon Lee’s haiku, to judge her turn of phrase or use of juxtaposition. I
wouldn’t know where to start. If you’re looking for an insightful literary critique
you may be disappointed.
Yet…
I’ve spent over two years running The Sciku Project, publishing scientific haiku by scientists and authors from around the world. I’ve written articles, given presentations and offered tips for researchers wanting to write haiku about their work. I’ve penned hundreds of sciku and published many of them. One or two I’m even proud of.
So with some reviewer context covered, let’s talk about the poems themselves.
*You weren’t allowed to continue with literature at my school unless your combined score across English, History, Geography, French and Latin was high enough. I struggled to learn vocabulary by rote, learning best through narrative…
The Haiku Themselves
I often say that sciku are a remarkably forgiving medium, that the brevity of the format means that even just putting key words next to each other can produce something that’s not completely awful. If you’ve spent your career at the laboratory bench the idea of writing poetry can be seriously intimidating. Sciku allow hesitant researchers to apply an analytical approach, piecing together syllables to create poems that, more often than not, work.
Writing a sciku is relatively easy, but…
Writing excellent sciku is hard, it’s a process that goes way
beyond slotting words together like a puzzle. Sciku can include narrative,
drama, humour, pathos, queries and a whole range of other elements on top of
being informative and factual. Great sciku stimulate curiosity and provoke
thoughts about the research. As a result of reading a good sciku you should be
able to understand the ideas and information presented but should want to find out more. At their best Sciku
can be moments that echo in the mind.
In Elemental Haiku Mary Soon Lee walks the balance between information and artistry perfectly. Her poems are graceful, humorous and fascinating, sometimes all three in a single haiku.
Each element is imbued with a sense of personality: carbon
is a “diva”, dysprosium plays “hard to get” and caesium is a firebrand
with a “softer side”. There’s humour
in neon’s embarrassing red lights and tragedy in the Radium Girls and their
fatal luminescent paint. Through the haiku Mary Soon Lee makes these collections
of protons, neutrons and electrons relatable.
The poems cover a range of subjects around the elements.
Iron’s haiku is just a list, a powerful reminder of the integral role it’s
played in human history. Lutetium compares electron structure with helicopter
parenting. Rubidium’s haiku reminds us that Robert Bunsen did more than just
invent his burner.
Some of the haiku flow smoothly in a single tale, whilst the dynamic phrasing of praseodymium is key to its success:
“Magnetic cooling.
Absolute zero beckons.
Approach the limit.”
This mix of approaches, the use of language and emotion, and the varied structures and wordplay keep the haiku both interesting and informative throughout. I think my favourite is Sodium:
“Racing to trigger
every kiss, every kind act;
behind every thought.“
It’s a haiku that takes as a starting point sodium’s role in the transmission of nerve impulses but adds a new dimension and depth by demonstrating what the synaptic processes can actually mean at a human level.
The least interesting for me personally are those that take
as their subject an element’s location in the periodic table but even then Mary
Soon Lee injects a humanity that elevates the subject – Potassium yearns “for the halogens / on the other side”.
For those elements you know something about already there’s a fun degree of interpretation to reading the poems – seventeen syllables isn’t long to convey information and its satisfying to pick up on subtle references. But even those elements I’m more familiar with allowed me to place new information within an existing context.
Having not studied chemistry for many years, the second half of the book covering the latter elements is more a journey of discovery. Where these poems work best is in connecting things I already know with chemical elements I’m clueless about. Take americium:
“Alpha particles
dispatched in smoke detectors
to protect and serve.”
I couldn’t have told you whether americium was an element or not, far less how it might play an important role in my life. Now I know it plays a crucial role in ionization smoke detectors, by emitting alpha particles and ionizing air molecules – if the flow of ions detected is broken by smoke then the alarm triggers.
The problem with latter chemical elements, especially those
that don’t occur naturally, is that we know very little about some of them. It gives
Mary Soon Lee less to work with and there are perhaps a touch too many poems
about half-lives towards the end (in fairness, I honestly can’t see how this
could be different). To clarify, it’s the number of poems and not the presence
of poems with half-life as a subject matter that I was less a fan of, and this
is really a very minor quibble. Having read the collection cover-to-cover I’ve since
had an awful lot of pleasure dipping in and out at random, an approach that
removes this issue.
Final Thoughts
The big question is if you can access the Science website
and the versions of the poems published there, is the book of Elemental Haiku worth checking out?
Absolutely. The format and the additions alter the experience of reading Mary
Soon Lee’s poems for the better, the explanations and use of space enhancing each
haiku. Reading from cover-to-cover you get a sense
of discovery, a faint echo of the progress made from Dmitri Mendeleev’s
original version of the periodic table to its current state.
Science and art are often portrayed as mutually exclusive, but Mary Soon Lee’s wonderful poems show just how wrong that is. In our quest to define and organise the chemical elements it’s easy to transform them into abstract concepts. Elemental Haiku is a special alchemy of poetry and science that demonstrates something that’s easily forgotten: that these chemical elements are more than just symbols in squares on a table. Excellent sciku indeed.
Interested in how Elemental Haiku came about, the process of creating the book and Mary Soon Lee’s writing? Visit The Sciku Project next week for our interview with Mary!
The preview copy of Elemental Haiku that this review is based upon was provided by Ten Speed Press, with no expectations other than some independent and unbiased coverage. Please note that some aspects of the text or production may have changed prior to publication on the 1st October 2019. You can find out more about the book here.
